


Know When To Hold 'Em, Know When To Fold 'Em

by Severina



Series: The Condemnedverse [2]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Community: tamingthemuse, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the course of action is already set. No point in fighting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know When To Hold 'Em, Know When To Fold 'Em

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's tamingthemuse community, for the prompt "commit". Post Season Two.
> 
> * * *

"The hell you think you're going?"

Daryl makes sure to pitch his voice low, but the kid still jumps about a foot in the fucking air. Daryl notes that one flailing hand reaches instinctively for the weapon on the picnic table in the split second before he recognizes the voice and the kid's whole body relaxes, tense shoulders slumping and air whooshing out of his lungs in a rush. But when Glenn spins to face him he can't hide the guilty look on his face. Fuck, ain't no wonder the kid always loses on those afternoons when it's too humid to fucking breathe never mind get any work done, and they wile away the time playing poker for watch-shifts and weapons-cleaning. 

Daryl gives him a point for trying to mask it with righteous indignation, though.

"Shit," Glenn hisses. "Don't sneak up on a person!"

Jesus Christ, being stealthy is what he _does_ , the only way he can bring in the meat and take out the geeks before they even notice he's fucking there, ain't the kid got one lick of sense? 'Sides, there's advantages to setting back quietly and observing, knowing people's moves when they don't know you know 'em. 

He gaze flicks unwillingly, briefly, to the closed door of the women's room. 'Course, there's disadvantages, too.

"You didn't answer my question," he says instead of pointing out the obvious. He also wishes he'd been wrong about that damn look on the kid's face last night, until he remembers that wishes are for suckers. 

Glenn shoves his cap back off his head then, swipes his wrist across his forehead. And sure, it ain't no more than six thirty a.m., sun's barely over the horizon and it's already hot as hades and gonna be a shitload worse as the day goes on, but Daryl's pretty damn sure that ain't why the kid is sweating. He glances once toward the locked motel room doors and Daryl isn't even sure the kid realizes he does it.

"Look," Glenn says quietly. 

Daryl waits for it. He can already hear the whole goddamn spiel in his head – times are tough and getting tougher, these people deserve something special, a treat will lift everyone's spirits in the days ahead. Or maybe, he thinks cynically, just something as simple as 'I wanna get chocolate for the farmer's daughter so she'll fuck me again.'

"I'm pretty fucking useless right now," Glenn continues. "Despite your lessons I can't track for shit, I can't take down game with a gun 'cause it'll alert the walkers, and after the incident with the pancake mix Carol said that if I come near the pots again she'll brain me with the frying pan. But scavenging that strip mall? That's something I can _do_. I want to do it." 

Huh.

Daryl scrubs a hand over his jaw, squints across the gravel lot. He wants to point out that there's a fuckload that the kid can do that don't involve breaching a goddamn strip mall that ain't even been re-conned yet. They already talked about sending a couple of people back out to the interstate, foraging for gas and supplies among the abandoned vehicles. No reason why Glenn can't join that group.

Knowing Glenn's motivations might make him understand the kid a bit more, but it don't exactly make the kid's idea any damn smarter. 

He can already tell by the set of Glenn's jaw that whatever he says is gonna be like spitting into a rainstorm, but he goes for the most straightforward block anyway.

"Rick said no," he points out. 

The kid shoots him a look that's part exasperation, part worry, part consideration. Rick's had plenty of reason to be lookin' a little crazy around the eyes lately. It ain't like it bothers him none – whatever it comes down to, Rick's been nothing but good to him and he'll stand by the man, and worse comes to worse he's got no fear of Rick Grimes and no worries about coming down on the man's bad side or what would happen if he did. Glenn probably don't got that same confidence, so it's the best card he can play today.

But the momentary hesitation passes, and Glenn lifts his chin. "I'm going to do it," he says, voice edged with just that hint of defiance. 

Kid stares him down and hell if he ain't a little bit impressed.

Daryl adjusts the strap on his bow, juts his chin toward the winding gravel path that leads back to the interstate. "Well, let's get the fuck goin' then," he says. When Glenn just blinks at him, he scowls. "Already added my name to the note you pinned on your damn door," he continues. "Jesus, is all you Koreans this damn slow?"

By the time Glenn gathers up his weapons and catches up to him, the kid is smiling.


End file.
